


Still Family

by camichats



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Epikegster Happens Differently (Check Please!), Getting Back Together, Jack Zimmermann's Overdose, M/M, Parent-Child Relationship, Reconciliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:22:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24547582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/camichats/pseuds/camichats
Summary: After Jack's overdose, Kent and Bob stay in touch. It means that when the time comes for Jack's senior year at college, he calls Kent.
Relationships: Kent "Parse" Parson & Bob Zimmermann, Kent "Parse" Parson/Jack Zimmermann
Comments: 10
Kudos: 77





	Still Family

Kent didn't know... he didn't know. Jack wasn't taking his calls. He wasn't answering any of Kent's texts. Kent didn't want to bother him, but he wanted to know what the fuck was going on. They'd had plans. They were going to be in the NHL and keep in touch with each other even though they probably wouldn't be playing for the same team. Kent didn't mention it to Jack because he'd already been so worried about someone finding out about the two of them, but he figured that they'd be able to come out when they retired. Hell, if they did good enough on the ice, they'd be able to do it before then. He knew that Jack didn't like hiding, and he thought that after a Stanley Cup or two, he'd be ready for something like that. 

And now Jack wasn't taking his calls. 

Kent had been completely cut off, like Jack didn't care about him at all. After a couple weeks of leaving voicemails and begging for Jack to tell him _anything_ , he called Dad. He should probably get back to calling him Bob. It's not like everyone called him 'Dad', that was something Kent was allowed to do because he was Jack's best friend. You don't stop talking to your best friend and still have them as your best friend, therefore, Kent shouldn't call him that anymore. The thought made him feel like he was going to vibrate out of his skin, but he still hit 'call' and waited. After it rang out several times, he was afraid that Dad wasn't going to pick up either. At the last moment-- or at least what _felt_ like the last moment-- the call picked up. 

"Hi Kent," he said softly. Whether that was because he was trying to be nice or because he was trying to keep his voice down, Kent had no idea. 

"Hey. Um, is Jack- I mean, is he-?" 

"He's... as well as can be expected. Recovering. I'm sorry that he doesn't want to talk to you." 

Kent wiped at the sudden swell of tears in his eyes. "It's fine," he said thickly, and there was no chance that Dad believed him, but he needed to pretend that he was fine or he'd fall apart. Jack would be able to salvage his NHL career after this, but Kent wouldn't be able to if he dropped out now. 

"We'll be changing his number soon-- reporters, you know?-- and he asked that we don't give you the new one." 

"Oh," Kent said, voice small. He wiped harder at his eyes. If Swoops came in and saw him now, he'd probably try to tell him that all rookies have trouble adjusting to a new city and if he ever needs to talk, he'll listen; all of that was nice, but it wasn't what Kent wanted to hear. 

"I don't think he wants for me to talk to you either," he said, and Kent's heart dropped. It was expected, but it still hurt like hell. He was going to have to make some excuse about needing to get off the phone, and that would be that: the end of the only good family Kent had known. "But," Dad continued, with barely a pause between one sentence and the next, "that's not really an option." 

Kent had to clear his throat before he could say anything to that. "I'd understand," he said, and his voice scraped against his throat. He was crying, and there was no hiding it, no matter how much he wanted to. "He's your son." 

"So are you, Kent." He had this way of talking when it was something important, like you were the only focus he had in that moment and he was going to do everything he could for you. His voice was soft, intense, and it reminded Kent of when he'd admitted that he didn't want to go home and Bob had offered to let him stay the summer with them. "Alicia and I didn't raise you, but we think of you as another son. I'm sorry I wasn't there to see you go first in the draft, kiddo. I'm so proud of you." 

Kent put his hand to his mouth to stifle a sob. Tears were spilling over, making his cheeks sticky. His nose was clogged so he couldn't breathe, and there was snot running over his fingers, but he hadn't felt this good since before he'd found Jack motionless on the bathroom floor. 

"I don't think I'll be able to make it to your first game," he said, and his voice was saturated with regret, like this was the biggest problem in Kent's life-- that he wouldn't there. "I'll watch it as soon as I can. I know you'll be amazing. And- and even if you aren't, even if you screw up, that's okay. We'll still love you, and- and you'll still be family. Okay?" 

Kent nodded, then remembered that Dad couldn't see him. "Okay," he croaked. 

"I love you. If you ever need something, you can call me. Okay?" 

Normally he didn't stress things like this, but Kent guessed this was a byproduct of Jack's overdose. "Okay," he said again. He wanted to ask if he'd tell Jack that he missed him, but Jack was already planning to never talk to him again. He wasn't going to push Dad away trying to force it. 

He'd ask about Jack calling him later, when everything had settled a little more. Jack was upset, he was hurting, and Kent wasn't at his side trying to help. Time. All he needed was some time, and they would be talking again. 

* * *

Jack knew something was up the moment his parents sat at the table. He was doing homework-- all his papers and books spread out across the surface-- and they normally didn't bother him when he was doing homework. They all had their little alone time spots or ways of signaling that they needed some quiet. Dad would lay down on the couch, TV off and staring at the ceiling. Mom would sit at the piano bench, staring down at the keys but never raising her hands to try and play. Jack normally went to his room, but he also didn't like being interrupted when he was doing homework. They knew that, but they were here now, sliding into the other chairs around the table like they had a family meeting planned. If that alone hadn't signaled it, the way Mom folded her hands on the tabletop would have. 

"Jack, honey, we wanted to talk to you about something," she said, sharing a look with Dad even though they'd clearly talked about this before sitting down. 

Knowing that this wasn't going to be a casual conversation, he closed his laptop. "Yes?" 

"Are you planning on going into the NHL after you graduate?" 

Jack frowned. "Yes." They'd talked about this. He was getting his degree for something to do afterwards and to help him clear his head now. His therapist had recommended it as giving him something to focus on in his life other than hockey. He enjoyed his classes, but hockey was still what he loved. His parents knew that, so why would they bring it up now? 

"We wanted to remind you that if you wanted to do something else, there's no pressure," Dad said. "You'll have a degree; you can make a career out of that, if you want." 

Jack's frown deepened. "I know. We... we've talked about this. I'll be looking at different teams this year, remember?" 

"Yes, of course, it's just-" Mom stopped, pursing her lips for a moment. "We don't want a repeat of your overdose. You almost died, and that was because of pressure in your hockey career." 

Jack had to make a conscious effort to unclench his jaw. He was glad that they weren't tiptoeing around the subject, but it never felt good to be reminded of his biggest failure. If he'd asked for help, none of this would have happened. He didn't want anyone to think he hated his life-- because he _didn't_ \-- but it still felt like everything was a massive 'what if' right now. "I know, maman. It won't happen again. I've been doing better. I'm not like I was back then." 

For a second, it looked like she was going to keep talking about it, insist that everyone was there for him if he _did_ slip again, but instead, she let out a breath. "Okay. I trust you to ask for help if you need it." She got up and pressed a kiss to the top of his head, then left. 

Dad was still sitting there, looking like he had something he wanted to say, so Jack looked over at him in query. "I haven't brought him up because you asked me not to," he started, and Jack's stomach dropped. Oh god. This was a conversation he _never_ wanted to have. Never. "But have you thought about calling Kent?" 

Jack shook his head, looking down at the book in front of him as he wished for this conversation to come to a spontaneous end. 

"He was your best friend. He's been in the league for the past few years; I'm sure he could offer some advice about the different teams and where you'd be strongest." 

"That's what you and the GM's are for." 

"He misses you." 

"How would you know?" Jack asked automatically, derisively. 

"You may have chosen not to talk to him, but I did nothing of the sort." 

Jack's gaze jerked up to meet his father's, shocked. 

"I know that he misses you because he asks about you every single month. I don't know why you still refuse to speak to him after all this time-- and if you don't want to tell me, you don't have to-- but I know that he would love to hear from you, even if it's to tell him how your classes have been. As a... personal favor," he added hesitantly, "I would like for you to consider it. I love both of you, and I would like to go to both of your games." 

Jack didn't want to think about it. He didn't want to think about Kent or the way they had been on the ice. He didn't want to think about how, high off of their success, they would steal kisses and fumble their way through sex because they were close but they needed to be _closer_. He didn't want to think about how he should have been at the draft and signed right after him because he was a legend but Kent was fucking golden on the ice and he'd worked harder than anyone else to prove that he belonged there. Jack hadn't been able to talk to him because every time he so much as thought about it, it felt like he was drowning. Anger was easy. He got mad at Kent and didn't think about it. And now his father was asking him to think about it years after he should've gotten over it, and he wasn't ready. Dad had been a parent to Kent as well, so it made sense that he was still hoping they'd get along. The truth was that Jack didn't know how to talk to Kent anymore. They'd been filled with hope. So much hope that they were brimming with it, and sure, there had been anxiety to match, but together it had felt like they could do anything. He... missed it. He was also terrified of it. "I'll think about it," he promised. 

Dad got to his feet and walked around the table to give him a hug. "Thank you. I know this is hard on you Jack, but you're not alone. Whatever you need, we'll be able to help." 

Jack cleared his throat. "Yeah. Yeah, I know. Thank you." 

* * *

Jack had meant it when he said he would think about it, but he hadn't planned on thinking about it quite as much as he ended up doing. He'd meant to think about it for ten minutes after he finished his homework for the day so that he would have kept his promise, but he didn't plan on agonizing over it. He hadn't been able to concentrate on his homework when he was left alone again, and all he accomplished was staring blankly at his laptop screen before it went to sleep-- only for him to wake it up and do the same thing over and over again. 

He asked Dad for Kent's number after he wasted most of the afternoon writing sentences in his notes that he had to delete a couple minutes later, and then he stared at his phone for half an hour as his finger alternated hovering over the call button and the create message button. 

In the end, he didn't make a decision. His finger slipped, and it started ringing. He wasn't going to hang up, so he swallowed, raising the phone to his ear. 

"Hello?" 

"Kenny," he breathed. His heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest. 

"...Zimms?" Kent asked, and he sounded heartbreakingly hopeful. 

Jack swallowed. "Hey." 

"I- _shit_ , one second." There was a clatter, the sound of a door closing, and the background noise that Jack hadn't noticed before was gone. 

"Am I interrupting something?" 

"No, just- y'know, hanging out with some of the guys. What's up?" 

Jack couldn't help it; he laughed. "What's up? That's the first thing you want to say to me?" 

"I- well- oh fuck off, it's not like I knew to be expecting this. I haven't heard from you in _years_ and now you're calling me up like it's another Friday." 

"It's Tuesday." 

"So not the fucking point, go to hell. Uh, anyways, was there something in particular or...?" 

"Euh, Dad said you've kept in touch." 

There was a beat. "Don't ask me to stop talking to him," Kent pleaded. 

"What? No! No, merde, nothing like that. I was... euh. How are you?" 

"Um. Fine, I guess? Off-season, y'know. You?" 

"Good. It's going to be my last year at Samwell, so I've been looking at the different teams." 

"Are you-" Kent started to ask, then cut himself off. 

"What?" 

"Nothing." 

"No, really Kenny, what?" 

There was a long pause, and Jack had to check his phone to make sure the call was still connected. "Are you asking for advice on where to go?" 

"Not... really." Jack blew out a breath. "I don't know. I want for us to be friends again." 

"Jack, I-. You didn't talk to me. You tried to cut me out, and the only reason we're talking right now is because Dad forced you." 

"He didn't force me, we just talked about it." 

"Right, cause that's so much better. You feel coerced instead of being forced." 

"No," Jack protested, running a hand through his hair. "I'm not- I want us to be friends again because I miss you. Talking about the next year seemed like the best idea." But now he was thinking that he should have started with an apology. The trouble was, he didn't know what all he needed to apologize for. For cutting Kent out, obviously, but it's not like he actually knew that he would do it differently if he was given the opportunity. He wouldn't have been able to handle Kent going to the NHL and him staying in the fucking hospital if he had to keep talking to him. He probably would've tried something, and this time, it wouldn't have been an accident. Jack shook his head to knock the thought loose; he didn't want to think about that or anything like it. 

"Uh, yeah, I mean, it's good to hear from you," Kent said, but he didn't sound like he really believed Jack. 

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. 

Evidently, that was all Kent needed to hear. He didn't ask for specifics for what Jack was sorry about, and he didn't question Jack's motivation. It was still awkward, but they managed to make it through a mostly-normal conversation with promises to keep in touch. 

The next day, Kent sent him a picture of his cat with the caption _Isn't she just a perfect little princess?_ Jack squinted at the picture and decided that Kent needed glasses because that cat looked like a fucking gremlin. To save himself from having to respond, Jack took a picture of his homework table and said _College was a mistake_. 

* * *

Kent stepped inside the party and his first thought was _I can't believe Jack joined a frat_. His second thought was _I can't believe he invited_ me _to his frat party_. It was more like Kent was nearby for a game and Jack didn't want to miss this party that his hockey team was throwing, so Jack told him to come so they'd get to see each other. And since when did Jack drink? Yeah they'd gotten totally wasted at parties back when they were in Juniors, but he'd kind of assumed that Jack stopped that when he was in rehab. Dad hadn't mentioned it, but that was either because Jack never fessed up to that or because Dad liked to pretend that they hadn't done that. 

Jack was busy telling someone a story when Kent spotted him, so he slunk up next to him and waited. 

"...his buddy threw up in there? I had to drag 'em both outta the Haus." 

Kent had meant to wait until Jack was done with his story, but he found himself interrupting, "Since when do you get physical off the ice?" 

Jack turned to look at him and fucking _lit up_. "You made it!" he said, smiling, and then he was hugging Kent, one arm wrapped around his shoulders as the hand holding his cup kind of smushed against his chest. 

Kent blinked in surprise. Since when did Jack get physical with _Kent_ in any place that wasn't tightly locked and completely private? 

He let go before Kent could force his arms to get with the program, but he didn't let go completely. He shifted to the side so his arm was around Kent's shoulders, and now they were facing the guy he'd been talking to before. "Kent, this is Bitty. Bitty, this is-" 

"I may not be a hockey expert, but I recognize Kent Parson. Oh lord, so nice to meet you," he said, a pink flush highlighting his cheeks. Whether that was from alcohol or something else, Kent didn't know and he didn't really care to find out. 

"Nice to meet you too," Kent said with a practiced smile. Jack had mentioned Bitty when he was talking about the team, but not as much as some of the others. It's not that Jack didn't want to, it's more like he sensed that Kent didn't like him and steered clear. And beyond that, it's not that Kent didn't like him, it's that he got the uncomfortable feeling that there was something between Jack and Bitty and he didn't want to think about it. Their friendship was going well, and he wanted to keep it that way. Kent missed the hell out of Jack, and Jack had missed him as a friend. It was better than nothing, and Kent sure as hell wasn't going to ruin that by getting jealous. 

"What are you doing at our haus party?" he asked, looking innocently confused but also eager. 

Kent didn't blame him, but he also had the completely uncharitable thought that if he knew who Kent was, and he knew who Jack was, he should be able to figure out why Kent was here. 

"I asked Parse to drop in so we could catch up," Jack said, which was a perfectly good response. But then- fuck. _Then_ Jack glanced at him and smiled the same way he would back at Juniors when Kent would think that Jack was in love with him. "Think I'm gonna head upstairs. Enjoy the rest of the party, Bitty." 

"Thanks for coming down at all, Jack," Bitty said with a smile. "Have fun catching up!" 

And then Jack was pulling Kent up the stairs and locking the door to his room the moment they stepped inside. 

"I can't believe that's-" Kent started to say, only to stop when Jack kissed him. He was pressed between Zimms and the door, and while it was nice as hell to be kissing him again when he never thought he'd be able to for the rest of his life, the feeling of the door behind him reminded him too much of what they did at the Q. "Zimms, I can't- I can't do this if you're gonna..." Kent trailed off, not sure how to say it. "I'm not a kid anymore," was what he settled on. 

Jack gave him enough space that he didn't feel like he was trapped, but he was still close. "I know. We're not the same we were back then, and I don't want to be. Can we- christ, Kenny, can we talk about it later? I've been thinking about sucking you off all day." 

Kent's dick was definitely interested in that proposition, and his mind was already starting to fog with all his blood rushing south. But... "You're not going to ignore me again." 

"Never." 

Kent nodded, and this time he was the one who initiated the kiss. 


End file.
